


Take Five!

by BoBoK



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Jazzy gang, Somewhat Fluffy, Somewhat spicy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoBoK/pseuds/BoBoK
Summary: School has just begun and Makoto Niijima is but a humble, transfer student who recently moved into Shibuya with her older sister, Sae Niijima.Until then, Makoto Niijima was the top of her class honor student and took many precautions to keep to herself. Everything changes after she meets the notorious school delinquent and second-year Ren Amamiya, otherwise known as "Kurusu" throughout the hallways.Through him, does she learn, shereallyloves jazz music.





	1. Blue Train (Pilot)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all my fellow ShuMako lovers! 
> 
> Here is another little series I've been thinking of for quite a while but never got around to doing it, but now with my other (and much angstier) series being written, I wanted to even it out and have a much more simple slice of life AU based around jazz and music as a whole. I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it!

She sighed softly as she looked out the side window of the train, adjusting her leggings and fixing her French-braid headband to fit more evenly on the crown of her head. She turned and looked up at her sister, whose face was unreadable as she stared forward into nothingness.

“Hey, Sis?” She asked.

“Yes, Makoto?” Her sister responded, breaking her out of her train of thought as she averted her deadpan stare and faced her sister.

“When do you think we’ll be finished moving in?” Makoto asked, tilting her head slightly.

“From what I have heard, the moving company has called and said all of the furniture and electronics have been situated, it’s just our personal belongings that need to be brought in.” She said with a small nod, a grin to compliment the satisfaction she felt now that they were _finally_ able to move into Tokyo. 

Makoto had a look of excitement on her face, “Sis, you mean _all_ of the furniture?” 

Her Sis nodded, looking straight ahead with a chuckle. “Yes, Mako. Our beds, the dining room, the living room, your room, my room, _everything_ is set up.” She explained, “And yes, that includes your keyboard.” 

Makoto balled her hand into a tight fist and pumped it, chuckling in satisfaction afterward. “I know exactly what I’m doing when I get home.” She said to herself.

“You’re unpacking and organizing your belongings first.” Her sister said, clicking her tongue. 

Makoto sighed and nodded. “Right.”

“Makoto, you should run for student president when the chance arrives, it’ll be a great experience for you.” 

The younger sister put a knuckle to her chin. “You were student council president at your high school, correct?” 

Her sister nodded, crossing her arms as the train began to slow to a halt, the voice-over system beginning to speak. 

**_“Welcome to Shibuya._**”

Makoto pulled up the handle to her waist and began to walk beside her older sister, dragging her suitcase behind her as the two began to navigate through the subway station. 

Finally, they seemed to find where they were going after scrambling around the station, (mainly due to poor sign placements), they walked up to the large staircase and into the center of the city, pedestrians swarming across the sidewalks and over the streets. It looked like mayhem to Makoto, but it struck her that this was the city life. 

“So, are we going to get a taxi?”

Her older sister shook her head, grabbing her suitcase as she began forward, “We’re only a few blocks away, we can walk.” 

Makoto nodded, following beside her sister as they navigated through crowds of people who were rushing past them, some bumping into Makoto and her sister as they parted the sea of people that were pushing past them. 

== 

After their relatively short walk, Makoto and her older sister, Sae, finally arrived at their apartment, which was one the sixth floor of a much larger tower. She took a deep breath as she looked outside the window of her room, looking over the gorgeous skyline of Shibuya, albeit it was very close to her but she could still see the blue sky tucked away behind the buildings. Sae must’ve given her this room on purpose for the view. 

Makoto tossed her suitcase on her bed, unzipping it as she began to pull out her clothes and personal belongings, hanging up all of her shirts in the closet, then neatly folding her pairs of pants neatly and setting them in the bottom drawer of her dresser. After a long (and very tedious) unpacking session, she grabbed her empty suitcase and slid it neatly under bedframe, a few subtle knocks on her door before it opened to reveal her big Sis with a bunch of clothes folded over her arm.

“Here are your school uniforms, Makoto.” She said simply, resting them on the end of Makoto’s bed before turning around and walking out the door, just before shutting the door, she popped her head in. “Don’t play too loud.” She gave a warm smile and disappeared through the door, shutting it behind her. 

Makoto nodded and looked over her clothes, unfolding them and taking a second to analyze them. She noticed long-sleeved white shirt complemented both the winter and summer uniform, she took the red, black, and white plaid skirts, folding them and setting them beside the shirts, grabbing both piles and setting them in the dresser beside each other, for simplicity.

Makoto grinned as she finally finished setting up her room. She looked to the side of her wall where her keyboard was resting on its stand. She walked over, taking a seat on the padded bench as she twiddled her fingers, warming them up. 

She reached over top and pressed the power button, the small screen flickering on as she pressed a few buttons, setting the tone to a grand piano. She smirked and played a few chords.

_Fm - Bb(7) - Eb - Ab(maj7) - Dm7(b5) - B￮7/D - G7 - Cm_

Just as she hit the last chord, she took in a deep and relaxed breath through her nose before loosing her tense form, exhaling softly, taking in one more deep breath and immediately began to play a repeating arpeggio of _Db,_ her right hand beginning to take over quick and rapid chromatic runs over the consistent and precision _Db_ arpeggiation. She was playing her favorite piano piece she had ever heard,

_Fantasie Impromptu Op 66_

As her lithe fingers began seemingly glide across the keys, she bit her lower lip as her eyes squeezed shut, her hands were beginning to take over in their perfection and mastering of the track. She had played it so many times she didn’t even need to look at the keys anymore, it was so easy to her now that she was even able to begin tapping her free foot subtly to the tune. 

As she reached the much slower portion of the piece, her shoulders hunched as she lowered her posture in line with the dynamics of the music, however, it very quickly began to crescendo to hasty chromatic runs and polyrhythms between her bass hand and treble hand, which she executed flawlessly. As the volume and intensity of the music began to rise, as did her posture, her back straightened back to its proper position as her fingers once more began to effortlessly dance across the keys, and once more, her body began to slump down as she began the ritard outro, her dancing growing slower and slower until it slumped to a halt. 

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, letting out a satisfied “Hmph!” Before standing up, yawning as she saw that her backpack was already ready for school the next day, which baffled her that the moving company even kept track of it, nonetheless, she was very happy that it had completed the trip. She double-checked to make sure all her notebooks and textbooks were ready for tomorrow, as she finished going down her mental checklist, she figured it was time to clock-in for the night and head to bed, excited for what Shibuya had in store for her. 


	2. But Not For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto meets Shujin's 'bad boy' Kurusu-kun and begins to develop her affection for Jazz music (and the boy).

** _BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_ **

Makoto’s eyes flickered open as she looked to the side, reaching across the small gap between her bed and her table to shut the obnoxious noise off. Makoto sat up and rubbed her eyes, realizing what day it was.

Her first day at Shujin Academy. 

She was quite nervous to begin, mainly due to the rumors about how quick rumors spread throughout the school. But, that wasn’t going to stop her from being the best student that Shujin had ever seen. 

She hopped out of bed and walked to her dresser, pulling out her school uniform for the summer. She changed out of her pajamas, taking a seat at the edge of the bed as she began to get dressed. 

After she finished, she grabbed her backpack and phone, stuffing it into the said backpack and heading out the door and out of the apartment.

Makoto boarded the train that would only leave her a block away from Shujin, which made the trip rather nice and very convenient. As she boarded the train, she saw a boy step on just before the doors shut, then the rumors began. Makoto turned and noticed by the badge on their uniforms, the girls must’ve been first-years.

_“Look, it’s Kurusu-kun!”_

_“I heard he beat up one of the second-year teachers!”_

_“Did you know that he was the guy who stole the keys to the roof from Principal Kobayakawa?” _

_“No way! I’ve always wanted to go up there!”_

Another girl chimed in.

_“No, I know ’cause I always hear trumpet coming from up top and no way Kurusu-kun plays the trumpet, he isn’t a band nerd!”_

_“You do have a point.”_

As their conversation grew duller with each passing word, Makoto lost her attention and gave it to this infamous ‘Kurusu-kun.’ 

He had frizzy and unkempt and jarring jet black hair, styled in a somewhat odd manner. He had the locks on the sides of his head pushed back past his ears, however, he must’ve given up halfway in slicking back his hair since only his sides were pushed back while his hair was uncontrolled atop the crown of his head. He had a somewhat ‘nobody’ look to him, except for his height, which he seemed to be taller than the majority of boys and girls there, his fluffy hair only adding another inch or two.

Makoto noticed that while everyone on the train was wearing their black blazers, buttoned neatly with the sleeves down and the cuffs from the white undershirt barely showing; Kurusu-kun wasn’t even wearing his blazer. Instead, he held it by the collar and slung it over his shoulder and not only was that enough of dress-code violation for him, but he also had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up just past his elbows. 

_‘Definitely a delinquent and Sis would want me to stay away from him.’_ She thought to herself as she finally averted her gaze from him, the rest of the train ride, Makoto stared outside the window, taking in the city’s scenery. 

==

After the bell for the class had rung, Makoto’s off-period began. 

_‘It’d be best if I ate and studied at the same time’_ She thought to herself as she climbed the steps, heading off to the third floor. 

As she reached the top floor, she could hear the slight sound of what sounded like high-pitched squealing coming from the floor above, _‘isn't that the roof?’_ She pondered, taking a look at the library door then back at the staircase, her curiosity taking over is as she climbed up the stairs to see a small landing on top with a large blue door that was just slightly cracked open, the squealing now turning into different pitches and tones. _‘Is that a trumpet?’_ She thought, wincing slightly to the high-pitched blazing quick notes that slipped through the crack of that door.

She gulped and opened it up, seeing the same boy from the train leaning against a table with a smaller brass-based instrument in both of his hands, the mouthpiece pressed against his lips as he continued through his speeding runs.

To Makoto’s ear, it seemed he was speeding through arpeggios of a D minor chord, however, there was an odd timing to his notes. Not all of them seemed to land so perfectly on the ‘e’ or the ‘uh’ or the ‘and.’ They were almost laid back, too laid back to her liking. She turned around to look at the staircase but decided against it, walking through the door and onto the roof, the boy finally stopping his playing as he noticed some sort of presence behind him. 

He turned around suddenly and looked at her, his eyes narrowing as he set his trumpet aside, resting it flatly on the bell. “Who are you?” He asked with a slight bite to his tone.

Makoto squeaked at his sudden spin around and her face grew a light pink as she stammered. “I-I am, uhm.” She grew frustrated with herself and couldn’t even bring herself to say her name to what his name was. ‘Kurusu-kun!’ She remembered. “What song were you just playing?” She blurted out randomly.

Kurusu raised an eyebrow at the girl’s sudden shift in determination. “I asked who you were. Answer me that first, then I’ll tell you.” 

Makoto gulped and looked aside, _‘Why am I struggling!? This should be easy!’_

“M-M…” She stammered, stumbling over herself.

“M-Makoto Niijima!” She finally was able to squeeze out.

“Hmph.” Kurusu hummed, looking at her with curious eyes. He sighed and pushed himself off of the desk, crossing his arms as he looked at her, noticing the third-year badge on her uniform. “It wasn’t exactly a song, just me riffing.” 

Makoto put a knuckle to her chin. “It was Jazz, as far as I could tell.”

“You could tell, huh?” He asked, taking a strand of his loose hair that fell across his face, twisting it with his index finger and thumb. 

“Y-Yeah… I play piano, b-but I only play classical music.” She said, her hands holding tightly onto the fabric of her skirt. _‘Why am I so nervous around this guy? Am I just scared cause he’s a delinquent? No… It’s not fear. He’s just sort of cute is all! Girls always get flustered around cute guys! Wait no- no, he isn’t cute, stop thinking!’ _

It was his small chuckle that brought her back out of her thoughts, she looked back up at him to see that he had turned around and put his back to her. “Classical music, huh? What a drag.” He said, walking back to the desk where his trumpet sat, hopping upon it. 

“Hey!” She called out, following after him, closing the distance between the two of them. “You got a problem with classical music?” 

“It doesn’t have any feel at all and it’s robotic.” He mumbled. “Lacks emotion, unlike people like Davis, Coltrane, Ferguson.” He said flatly. 

Makoto’s mouth widened as her brows furrowed. “It is _not_ robotic!” She defended, “And classical has much more emotion than you think! I’m certain musicians like Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Liszt, and Horowitz make that very clear!”

Kurusu chuckled once again. “If you say so.” He mumbled, waving his hand. “Go enjoy your off-period and stop bugging me.” He sighed, grabbing his trumpet, putting the mouthpiece back to his lips, taking a deep breath before he began to play, this time it was much softer than before, the gentle main melody of Maynard Ferguson’s _Macarthur Park_ beginning to ring out through the bell of his horn. 

Makoto frowned and turned around, “Fine, then!” She declared, walking towards the doorway where she could see another second-year leaning against the open door. As she passed by, the blonde boy stopped her before she could head down the stairs.

“Yo, Kurusu and you friends?” He asked, pushing himself off of the door, approaching her so their conversation wasn’t as loud.

Makoto furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “He’s rude.”

The boy chuckled and nodded. “You seem to have hit it off with him, though. He’s always interested by other musicians. He just hides it by trying to be a big bad guy” 

Makoto’s furrowed brows eased as she looked at the boy with curious eyes. She looked like she was about to speak before she was interrupted by Kurusu calling out to the blonde boy.

_“What’re you waiting for, c’ mon, Ryuji! I’ve got some new stuff we should learn!”_

Ryuji turned to face the doorway, “Coming!” He then returned his stare to her, nodding her farewell with a grin. “See you around.” 

Makoto nodded. “He seems much nicer.” She said quietly to herself, returning down the stairs and straight into the library. 

== 

The bell had rung, signaling the end of the school day, the students all practically jumping out of their seats and stampeding through the doorway, exiting the building. Makoto grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, walking out last. 

She dug her phone out of her bag and looked at it, seeing a text from her older sister.

**S:** Would you like to go out to eat tonight?

Makoto grinned and quickly typed a message back.

**M:** Of course! Where at? 

_Sis is typing…_

**S:** There's this bar and grill-styled restaurant a few blocks away from our place, we can walk down there later tonight since you have school off tomorrow. 

**M:** Sounds like a plan, I’ll see you when I get back home.

Makoto shut off her phone and tucked it into her bag, her lack of attention causing her to bump into the back of a taller boy. She then noticed there were about four or five boys all encircling a smaller and more frail-looking blue-haired boy against a wall. She noticed the fear in the boy’s eyes, she knew she had to speak up. 

As she opened her mouth to speak, one of the boys grabbed the younger boy by his collar and lifted him, pushing him against the wall. “What did you tell Kobayakawa?!” 

Makoto’s eyes narrowed and she yelled. “Hey!” As loud as she possibly could, immediately earning their attention. She watched what looked like the leader of the pack turn around and look at her with a nasty stare. She noticed the kids were all first-years, but the most shocking part was the one boy being picked on was a second-year.

The leader released the younger boy and walked up to Makoto, looking down at the crimson-eyed third-year. “Bug off.” He growled.

Makoto shook her head, stomping her foot on the ground. “I can assure you that will not happen.” She growled. 

The bot narrowed his eyes as he leaned in closer, his hand balling into a fist at his side. 

Makoto could hear footsteps rapidly approaching and before she knew it, she saw a hand on the boy’s shoulder, both her and the leader turned to face whoever’s hand it was. It turned out it was Kurusu. 

“Wha-?” The boy was cut off as Kurusu’s fist landed squarely against his cheek, sending him sprawling against the floor - and just like every group of assholes, the rest of the pack wavered and looked at Kurusu with wide eyes. 

Kurusu shook his hand and frowned, watching the boy crawl back up to his hands and knees. “How dare you fucking hit m-“ However as the boy noticed the taller second-year boy, he gasped. “Holy shit, it’s Kurusu!” He yelped before standing up and taking off, his gang trailing behind him. 

The smaller boy adjusted his collar and looked at Makoto, “T-Thank you.” He gave her a curt bow, turning to thank Kurusu but it turned out he was already walking off, his bag over his shoulder with a case in his other hand as he walked.

Makoto watched as Kurusu-kun walked off, his slouched posture making Makoto cringe slightly. _‘He’s going to have back problems! Wait— why do I even care what happens to him? He’s rude… But…’_ She trailed off, looking back at the other second-year who was already off, heading back towards the school. _‘Well today was… eventful.’_ She frowned at the thought and turned, walking towards the train station. 

== 

“Ready to go, Makoto?!” She heard her sister ask through her door. 

Makoto sighed and stood up from her piano bench, “Yes, I am!” She said, digging through her closet to grab out a blue peacoat and her boots, slipping them both on herself as she opened her door, seeing her sister standing before her. 

“Good, let’s head off.” She said with a subtle smile. 

== 

As they were walking down the street, Makoto could notice the quality of the buildings and the street itself begin to deteriorate, whether it was just an older part of Shibuya or what would be considered the ‘bad-side’ of the town was unbeknown to Makoto. She turned to her sister. “What’s this place called?” 

“LeBlanc.” She replied simply, staring straight ahead. 

Makoto hummed in understanding as she returned her stare back to the sidewalk in front of her.

“Mako, have you heard any live jazz before?” 

Makoto’s eyes widened and she looked away, “N-No. I haven't.” 

“Since it’s Friday, this place has a jazz band playing tonight, so we’re both in for something new,” Sae said with a satisfied smile.

Makoto nodded, stopped beside Sae as it appeared they finally arrived at their destination, loud jazz music audible through the closed doors. Sae took lead and opened the doors, a wave of sound hitting the two of them head-on as they entered.

They walked into the dining area, Makoto taking a look around to see how everyone was staring intently at the band up top the stage, Makoto beginning to get enveloped in the music that was playing. _‘Wow… Whoever they have playing trumpet is spectacular.’_ She thought to herself as said trumpet player began to play hasty runs and chromatic licks over the fast bebop styled groove that was coming from the bass and drummer. 

A waiter came by in between the two songs, asking both Makoto and Sae what they would like for drinks and food.

Sae peeked at the menu, “I’ll take the fried cod with chips, please.” 

Makoto looked at her menu then back at Sae, not recognizing any of the American or English dishes on the menu. “I-I’ll have what she's having.” 

The waiter nodded with a grin and turned around. 

Makoto’s attention was brought back to the stage as she heard a familiar voice begin to speak through the microphone, she took a closer look at the band and _‘No way… Is that Kurusu-kun? And that Ryuji boy?’_ She asked herself, noticing the trumpet player and the drummer, but she was still unfamiliar with the bass player, who looked like an older man dressed in all white and pink suit with a small black beard on his chin, a white fedora atop his head. 

She reverted her attention back to Kurusu, noticing his simple choice of attire compared to the much fancier and snazzier bassist. He was wearing a simple white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows along with black slacks and instead of his hair being the style it was before, it was now all loose and fluffy all around. 

_“We’re going to slow it down right now with some Chet Baker if that’s cool with all of you.”_

He was obviously speaking in rhetoric, but the crowd didn’t seem to notice as they all cheered back his way, a mix of woo’s and yeah’s filling the room. 

_“Uh one, and uh two, and uh one, two, three.”_

_Badum-tss-dun-dun._

Makoto noticed how his count in was interrupted by the boy on the drums played some sort of intro to when the bassist joined in on perfect time, a gentle groove being laid out as Kurusu brought the trumpet to his mouth, playing a soft melody. 

Makoto found herself bobbing her head and tapping her foot along to the beat, however, she grew frustrated with the band for staying so far back on the quarter notes! She couldn’t really find herself landing exactly on what seemed like the beat they were playing, and it drove her _insane._

Sae noticed this frustration and chuckled softly. “Makoto, you look tense, is everything all right?” 

Makoto turned to her sister and frowned. “Their rhythm is all over the place!” She pouted, looking back at the band as she saw both Kurusu and the bassist swaying and rocking side to side, back and forth, perfectly in sync with the rhythm, unlike Makoto.

“It’s called swing. It’s where you play much more based off of feel and less about how solidified and stable a metronome is.” Sae explained.

“Swing..?” She repeated, looking back up at the band, the rhythm beginning to find itself within Makoto as she began to subtly rock her head side to side, getting a feel for this ‘swing.’

Suddenly, the trumpet solo stopped and she saw Kurusu pick up the microphone, his trumpet in one hand and the mic in the other as he began to sing into the microphone, his voice surprisingly soft and very pleasant with the accompanying backing band.

_“They’re writing songs of love, but not for me.”_

_“A lucky star’s above, but not for me.”_

She shut her eyes and began to get into the song, her foot tapping as her body slightly swayed right to left to the thumping bass and shockingly soft voice of Kurusu-kun. 

She was even further shocked as Kurusu brought his voice just a slight bit higher, reaching a perfect mid-range between his lower vocal range and his falsetto, his voice having a perfect sort of airiness to it, fitting just right with how the song was being played.

_“With love to lead the way!”_

_“I’ve found more clouds of grey!”_

_“Than any Russian play could guarantee!”_

_“I was a fool to fall and get that way~”_

_“Heigh-ho, alas, and also lack-a-day”_

_“Although I can’t dismiss~ The memory of her kiss~”_

_“I guess she was no~ot for me.”_

As Kurusu brought the trumpet back to his mouth for the solo between the second chorus, Makoto found herself feeling slightly sad, mainly due to the melancholic lyrics of this song, and just how Kurusu-kun was singing it almost made it feel like it was personal to him in some way.

She continued bobbing her head with a satisfied smile as his trumpet came back in once more, the soft improvised solo not daring to stomp out the rest of the band, unlike most of the amateur violinists she had come to meet in her band classes. 

Once the solo ended, she saw him pick up the microphone again, bringing the song to the coda with its final chorus. 

_“I was a fool to fall and get that way~”_

_“Heigh-ho, alas, and also lack-a-day”_

_“Although I can’t dismiss~ The memory of her kiss~”_

_“I guess she was no~ot for me~~.”_

On his final ‘me’ the whole drummer and bassist collapsed into a long and drawn-out note until they all fell quiet, Kurusu bringing his trumpet to his lips and playing a final and gentle three-note ascending lick up to resolve the song and close it out, cheering following shortly afterward. 

Makoto couldn’t stop herself from clapping alongside the rest of the room, a large smile on her face.

Sae leaned over whilst clapping. “He’s got a good voice!” She stated, half-yelling over the cheers.

Makoto turned slightly to her, the clapping finally easing down. “I know him! He’s a second-year at Shujin!” 

Sae raised a brow and let out a small “Hmph.” It was unclear to Makoto if she were impressed or if it was just the newly found knowledge had caught her off guard. 

_“This will be our final song for tonight.”_

Makoto looked to see Kurusu counting off once more.

_“One, two, one, two, three,”_

And just like that, the stage exploded into a loud burst of sound coming from the drums, bass, and trumpet all blaring in unison, after the short intro, the bass began to pick up with a simple and repetitive riff, Kurusu taking the mic one last time.

_“This is a tune called Chameleon by Maynard Ferguson.”_

Makoto watched as suddenly he put the trumpet to his lips, joining in on the band with the very quick double staccato notes, his body beginning to grow much more into song as the dynamics continued their very slow build-up until he arched his back backward, pointing his trumpet directly to the ceiling as it cried out with high squeals before the dynamics shifted back down and began their build-up once more. He played the same staccato melody, instead this time an octave higher. His posture grew normal once more as he rocked back and forth, tapping his foot to the beat as his body swayed to the rhythms coming from the band. After a short solo from the trumpet, the column response section came along.

_RAHHHHH-TAT_

After the squeal, the drummer played quick fills to fill in the silence, Makoto stunned by how quick the snare rolls and how effortless the drummer made them look. She couldn’t even grasp at what he was doing but it sounded absolutely magnificent. 

_RAHHHHH-TAT_

And again, another blazing fast drum fill filled in the void of silence that happened between those hits. Makoto found herself with her mouth wide as she stared in awe at the masterful art that was taking place before her.

And finally, in a massive and booming climax, the coda took place as the whole three-piece band grew so much more into it, all of them rocking and grooving to the loud and dynamically intense coda just before the final two notes rang out of Kurusu-kun's trumpet, two high-pitched squeals signaling the end of the song. 

Cheers erupted from the crowd, multiple people standing on their feet to give a standing ovation, Makoto is one of those people. 

The three of them bowed and walked off the stage, Makoto taking a seat. 

Sae looked over at her younger sister with a smile. “It’s safe to assume that you enjoyed what you heard?” 

Makoto nodded. “I’ve never heard anything so exciting in my life.” 

Sae nodded. “That trumpet player sure is something else…” She added on, watching as the waiter came with their food on two plates.

Makoto nodded. _‘He really is.’_

== 

After Makoto had eaten, she stood up and walked to where she saw the guys disappear from the stage, heading that direction. She found herself coming to a backdoor the bar, but the sight of Kurusu’s trumpet case signaled to him that he was still here. She opened the door and peeped out, seeing his dark figure against the wall, his arms crossed. 

She stepped out and walked up to him.

He noticed a figure beside him, turning to face the third-year he had seen earlier today. “What are you doing here?” 

Makoto couldn’t even contain her excitement. “I came here to eat! But never mind that, I _need_ you to teach me how to play jazz!” She declared.

He raised an eyebrow and kept his arms crossed. “I can’t teach someone how to play jazz. You already know how to play the piano, yeah?” 

Makoto nodded. 

“Then, you’ll just need to get used to playing based off of feel and swing and I can’t teach that.”

Makoto frowned slightly. 

He noticed her sudden crushed morale and decided he could save it. “However, you can come by my gram’s place tomorrow and I’ll help you pick out some records you could use for reference. Or we can go downstairs and jam.” 

Makoto grinned and nodded. “How would I find you?” 

Ren took out his phone from his back pocket, opening the contacts app as he typed a bit, handing her the phone. 

Makoto took it and noticed what name he had put her under, one that sent her glowing red. 

_‘Cute Pianist Gal’_

Her eyes widened and she looked at him, thankfully the night was hiding her furious blushing as she quickly typed in her number (not without fumbling and having to retype it a few times), and handed it back to him. 

He chuckled and pushed himself off of the wall. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“R-Right! A-And I will answer y-your, uhm, call!” She stammered before opening the door and rushing back inside the bar, returning to her seat with a red face. 

Sae noticed her sister’s flustered state immediately and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?” 

“I-I, uhm, gave him my number.” 

Sae’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but she relaxed and hummed. “Just be sure to be keeping up with your studies.” 

Makoto grinned. “Always. Besides, I just added a new subject I’ll need to study.” 

“Oh?”

Makoto had that look of terrifying determination on her face as she curled her hand into a fist in sheer excitement, keeping it hidden in her lap. 

_“Jazz.”_


	3. Birdland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Kurusu go shopping for records and Makoto learns what seems like a dark side to Kurusu-kun, the delinquent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for going on hiatus for twenty or so days. There will definitely be _a lot_ more time in between chapters since school and all started, but I hope you all enjoy this much slower and grounded chapter.

Makoto’s eyes fluttered open as the obnoxious blaring sound of her alarm continued its steady beeping. She reached over with her hand and turned it off, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. 

She heard her phone let out a small twinkle sound as she began to get out of bed, planting her feet on the ground before she stood up and grabbed her phone, unplugging it from its charger.

**????:** If you can, meet me outside the central ticket gate in Yongen-Jaya at 10. 

Makoto thought for a moment, _‘What are they talking about?’_

**CPG:** I’m sorry, who is this?

_???? is typing…_

**????:** Ren.

Makoto thought for a second again. 

**CPG:** Ren?

_???? is typing…_

**????:** Kurusu is probably what you know me as, but my actual name is Ren.

Makoto finally realized who she was talking too, her face began to glow a light pink as she thought of his contact name for her.

**CPG:** My contact name isn’t still ‘cute pianist gal’ is it? 

_Kurusu is typing…_

**Kurusu:** It most certainly is.

She typed again, beginning to walk towards her door, swinging it open as she hit send. 

**CPG:** Do you at least know my name? 

_Kurusu is typing…_

**Ren:** Makoto Niijima, right?

Makoto smiled slightly as she was still remembered as something more than just a cute pianist, needless to say, this morning certainly had a very good start to it. 

**CPG:** I’ll see you at 10, Kurusu. 

_Kurusu is typing… _

**Ren:** See you then. 

She grinned and shut off her phone, tucking it into the waistband of her pajama pants as she grabbed eggs out of the refrigerator, cracking them in a bowl and mixing in some milk, turning on the stove while she grabbed a whisk, blending the two ingredients. She poured the bowl in the pan, the milk/egg mixture beginning to sizzle and grow more solidified, Makoto using a spatula to scramble the eggs. 

Whilst she made her breakfast, Makoto was humming the same tune which was the set closer for Kurus- Ren’s gig. What was it called again? Chameleon by Maynard…. Ferguson? 

She felt like she got it right but she didn’t bother herself with the details of the song as of now, instead, she just continued to hum the main melody, wondering what Kurusu-Kun's grandmother’s house is like. He had a rather expensive looking trumpet so maybe he was well off? Not that his money mattered to her, his musical prowess had already won her heart, (her musical heart! Not her metaphorical one of course!) 

Makoto hummed as she finished her breakfast, laying it out on a plate and bringing to the dining room table as she began to eat. 

== 

He huffed out a sigh as he set his phone on the ground beside him, sitting up as he rubbed his face. _‘She seems pleasant.’_ He thought to himself, standing up. He dug through a duffel bag, pulling out a white v-neck with a black collar, pulling up a pair of blue jeans. He yawned, stepping over another sleeping body that was lying beside him, grabbing his blazer off of the door handle. 

As he finished his morning routine and was just about to head out the door, a young boy’s voice called out from behind him. “Hey, you’re leavin’ already?” 

Ren turned to the voice, a grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m heading out a little early, Shinya.” He nodded, turning back to the door. 

“I’ll roll your sleeping bag for ya!” Shinya said, climbing out of his sleeping bag, rolling both his and Ren’s sleeping bags and packing them tightly into the closet for the night. 

“Don’t give Boss too hard of a time, okay?” He said and shut the door, hearing a muffled _“I won’t!”_ through the door. 

He grinned and began to head off towards the train station, waiting for the ‘cute pianist gal’ to meet up with him. 

== 

She stepped off the train and began the journey of traveling through the busy station, following the signs as closely as possible. She finally found the central gate and walked towards it, her eyes narrowed as she scanned around for Kurusu-kun. 

There he was, his fluffy and unkempt hair just barely visible above the crowds of people rushing past him. He was leaning against a support pillar in the center of the wing and after weaving through the crowd to finally get to him. 

“Kurusu-kun!” She exclaimed, watching him turn towards her with a small grin. She was just about to stop right in front of him until the top of her foot was hooked by a passing stranger’s ankle, sending her falling directly towards him.

Ren slouched slightly and held out his arms as she fell against his chest, her hands clutching tightly at his shirt in an attempt to catch herself. 

She found herself not stumbling to the ground as she thought she would, but she was instead embraced by the warmth and the soothing feeling of arms around her torso. She could’ve melted into whatever this warmth was, until she was suddenly snapped back to reality by a voice.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking down at her with a concerned stare, which was a sight she had yet to see. 

“I-I—um—uh-yes!” She said, her face blushing a furious red as she pushed herself off of him, clasping her hands in front of her lap as she looked at her feet, trying to hide her embarrassment. _‘Why onto him of all people!? Why couldn’t I just fall onto the ground?!’_ She mentally bashed herself a little while longer, until once more Kurusu brought her back out of her headspace.

“Well, want to head out?” He asked, raising an eyebrow before bending down, grabbing his case off of the floor and standing back up (not exactly straight, his posture was slouched which always bugged Makoto.)

She nodded and watched him turn, heading off towards what looked like an exit.

== 

“Where are we going?” Makoto asked as she followed him, swerving through alleys and side-streets.

“Gram’s place.” He replied simply, his pace hardly faltering as he turned to look at her with a cheery smile.

“Do you live there with her?” 

He shook his head.

It wasn’t long until the two had finally reached a smaller neighborhood that looked somewhat rundown, but it also had a sort of charm to it. She saw Ren stop and take a breath before continuing again, not bothering to question his sudden pause. He cut right into a smaller alley before he stopped at what looked like a small shop.

** _‘Wild Card Records’ _ **

Kurusu opened the door and allowed Makoto to enter before him, gesturing to her with the same big and cheery smile on his face as she walked past him. As soon as she entered, she could hear upbeat big band jazz playing throughout the small store, along the walls there were collections of records and CDs. 

“Welcome, darling!” She heard an elderly woman’s voice call out from behind the counter.

“Yo, Gram!” Kurusu called back, “This is Makoto Niijima, she’s a classic pianist who wants to get into jazz!” 

This so-called ‘Gram’ looked at Makoto with a small curl of her lips as she closed her eyes and nodded. “I can certainly help with that.” 

Makoto bowed her head. “Thank you, ma’am. I-I thank you!” She quickly snapped back into proper form as she watched the elderly woman walk out from behind the counter. She watched her walk through the catalogs and grab three records. She walked back over to Makoto.

“Here, darling. These will get you started.” She said with a warm smile, handing the small stack to her.

Makoto’s eyes widened as she took the stack in her hands, going through them.

** _Head Hunters - Herbie Hancock_ **

** _Conversations With Myself - Bill Evans_ **

** _The Phat Pack - Gordon Goodwin’s Big Phat Band_ **

“How much do I need to pay for these!?” She asked, looking back up at the shop owner. 

Kurusu chuckled inaudibly behind her and crossed his arms, waiting for the typical line he always heard, mouthing the words as Gram said them.

“Anyone exploring Jazz for the first time gets three free albums! It’s my treat!”

Makoto looked back down at the albums, eyes wide as she snapped her head back and forth between the albums, to the shop owner, to Kurusu-kun, to the shop owner, to the albums. 

He couldn’t help himself, he let out a quiet laugh which in turn made Makoto pout up at him, only furthering his chuckle.

She looked to the shopkeeper and gave her a proper bow, thanking her before turning around and joining Kurusu who was now waiting at the door. “W-Well now what do we do?” She asked, hugging the thin vinyl cases to her chest as they both exited the building.

“Do you have a record player at home?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shook her head.

He went quiet as he went into thought, his free hand grabbing a strand of hair that fell in front of his face. “You could stop by my place and use my record player. I don’t have anywhere to be for a few more hours.” 

Her face suddenly reddened and scrunched up as she clutched tighter onto the vinyl. _‘His place!?’_

Kurusu noticed her now tomato-red face and sighed. “Don’t get too worked up or angry, I know it’s not very gentleman-like of me to ask you to my place after knowing you for two days but I have a record player and it’s really the only way.” 

She immediately felt a wave of guilt smack into her as she realized Kurusu had thought she was upset. “N-No it’s not that! I’ve, um, it’s just that I've never had a boy ask me… erm. ‘to his place’ before.” 

Kurusu’s rather blasé expression showed a hint of happiness in it as a small smile crept up his lips. “Sorry, I thought you were angry.” 

She shook her head. 

“All right, well…” He said, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his grip on his case. “Let’s get going, it’s only a few minutes from here.” 

==

Makoto took heed to the surroundings as she saw Ren begin to fiddle with a set of keys that were in his back pocket. It looked strangely familiar to the surrounding area of Leblanc, or at least the back alleyway of Leblanc. She then noticed that it was Leblanc, he opened the back door and entered, the same backstage area from the previous night greeting them. He held the door open for her to pass and walked in after her, shutting the door and locking it. 

He walked past her and with a nod of his head, she followed after him, walking into an empty bar area with normal tables set up in front of a stage, all the chairs stacked on top of said tables, they must have not been open yet. 

She watched Ren cut to the side and walk to a small connector hallway which led to the building beside Leblanc, sliding open a door to reveal a smaller and fairly empty room, except for a young boy who was sitting at a record player with a milk crate full of records beside him, music playing quietly from the small player, a woman’s voice ringing out above all of the strings in the background. (At least that was all Makoto see, having to step on her tippy-toes to look over Ren’s shoulder) 

_‘It's not a game_  
I'm not a robot AI challenging you  
I'm not a phantom  
I'm in your face and  
I'm here to see it through’ 

“Hey, Shinya!” Kurusu suddenly called out, the boy turning around, a wide smile spreading across his face. 

“Ren! You weren’t even gone that long!” The younger boy said as he stood up and turned to face the frizzy-haired trumpetist. “What’re you doing back home so early?” 

“A friend of mine wanted to listen to some new music and she doesn’t got a record player back at home.” He said, stepping into the room and to the side to reveal Makoto, who was standing as prim as ever, even though she wasn’t trying to hide behind Kurusu, it certainly appeared as such.

Shinya’s eyes widened as Makoto stepped into the room and waved to him, a small smile on her face.

“Woah, Ren! You got a date!?” The boy suddenly exclaimed as he turned to Ren.

Ren rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Uh, no. Just a friend.” He assured, turning to see how dark Makoto’s face went. He returned his look to Shinya, “Mind if we use the record player for a little while?” 

Shinya shrugged. “Sure.” He said as he walked past Makoto and grabbed his shoes at the doorstep, slipping them on and turning around to face Ren, giving him a fist bump. He then walked over to the still glowing red, very embarrassed and very confused Makoto, who awkwardly returned a rather weak fist bump. 

“Later, you two!” He said, heading out the door, sliding it shut behind him. 

“Oh…. ‘kay,” Makoto mumbled, spinning around to look at what happened to be Kurusu’s house, it was all visible from just the living room itself. She could see a small kitchen that was connected by a small door frame, a backdoor leading to what she thought was the hallway of the building behind it. She then turned once more and saw a fairly empty closet, and she turned her head to face the final wall, which had a small bathroom which barely had room for a tub. 

“Sorry, it’s small.” He mumbled, taking a seat on the floor beside the record player, stopping the record and lifting it, slipping it back in the bright red case and stuffing it back into the milk carton box. 

Makoto shook her head. “No. I was just analyzing is all. I do it all too often, I apologize.” She said softly as she sat beside him, laying out the records in front of them. 

“So which one do you want to listen to, first?” He asked, turning to her. 

She put her knuckle to her chin as she stared at the records, biting her lower lip as she got concentrated at to what sounded the most intriguing. 

_ **Head Hunters - Herbie Hancock** _

What caught her eye immediately was the album art, a bright orange robot-man playing the piano was the first thing that caught her eye. She then took notice of the band behind him, a blue filter applied over them, which she concluded was because the piano was the main leading role in the band. Since it was so accentuated.

** _Conversations With Myself - Bill Evans_ **

Conversations with Myself was an interesting title, to her at least. She wondered what it could be, maybe an album name or an entire concept for the album? He was clearly pianist as in the cover he was sitting on a bench at a grand piano. She hummed in thought and tapped her knuckle against her chin slightly before looking at the final album.

** _The Phat Pack - Gordon Goodwin’s Big Phat Band_ **

Immediately by the sight of the album cover, she could tell that it was certainly the most modern of the records. She was very slightly irked by the spelling of ‘fat’ but she quickly disregarded it as ‘jazz lingo.’ 

Finally, after some thinking, she finally picked the brightest cover. _Head Hunters_ by Herbie Hancock. She lifted it up and handed it to Kurusu, who was staring at her with an amused smile, which only made her feel even more self-conscious and blush even more furiously. “H-Here.” She mumbled, turning away as she could hear a quiet and amused chuckle come from Ren. She huffed out a sigh as he loaded the disc on the player and began spinning it, a very funky, odd sounding synth line beginning to play. It sounded so familiar, what was it!?

“Sound familiar?” Kurusu suddenly asked. 

She turned and nodded to him. “Yeah, I can’t put my finger on it, though!” 

“This is Chameleon.” He said quietly, leaning back as he planted his hands behind him to give him support.

Soon a funky keys part began to hit chords while a small guitar riff played, and soon more opposing keys parts joined in on the grove, the faint hints of guitar still audible in the mix. Finally, the saxophone came in along with a very silly sounding bass filter which both played in unison, adding a very classical yet funky vibe to the song.

“I thought Maynard Ferguson wrote this?” She asked, turning to him.

Ren shook his head. “Welcome to jazz. We all do covers, we write our own stuff for covers, we spread our messages in our music only for other people to add or completely change the message that was intentionally written.”

Makoto was very amused by the idea. “How do they change it?” 

“You’ve heard of improvising, right?”

Makoto nodded. “I don’t do it all that much, though.” 

“Well, it’s what makes jazz the way it is. So, I’m assuming you know your theory, right?” 

She nodded again. 

“Well. Hopefully, you can use it on the spot.” He said with a sly grin as he turned back to the record player, a very high saw-typed sound began to erupt, it was Herbie soloing now. She began to listen to the bizarre sounds that he made with his keyboard, finding them intriguing but she found the notes he used even more interesting. She could notice the tempo itself begin to pick up very slightly, as did the dynamics of the song. That’s when the drums began to take charge it felt, the drummer moving from his hi-hat to the ride as it must’ve been time for the climax and outro of the song.

Little did Makoto know, there were 10 minutes left of this single song. 

== 

As the final track ended, the two of them were now laying on the carpeted floor, simply enjoying the music that was blaring through the record. “Want some water or coffee?” Ren asked, turning to look at Makoto, who was now beginning to sit up. 

“Water will be fine.” She said with a subtle nod. 

Ren nodded and stood up, walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, grabbing his own glass and filling it with water as well, taking it back out to her. “Want to check out another album?” He asked, handing her the cup, which she, of course, seemed all too thankful for.

“How about the… _The Phat Pack_ one?” She asked, looking at Ren, who was already sliding the record out. He placed it down and began playing the record, taking a quick sip as the echo-y trumpets began to blare louder and louder until the song broke into full swing.

Makoto found herself feeling much less frustrated now with the sporadic rubato as she began to listen to Sae’s advice and simply feel the groove. She found herself bobbing her head from side to side with her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her face as she listened to how all of the instruments blended so perfectly with each other, and how everything seemed so picture perfectly done. 

She finally snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Kurusu. “You never told me you had a brother.” 

He looked over with an eye open before he blinked a couple of times, seemingly confused. Realization flashed in his eyes and he chuckled and shook his head, “Oh… Shinya and I aren’t blood-related but I suppose you could call us brothers.” He said with a shrug.

She raised a brow. “He just lives with you and your parents?” 

“No. Just with me.” He huffed out. 

Makoto tilted her head as she looked at him now, much more directly. “Wait. You mean you don’t live with your parents?” 

Kurusu shook his head with a slightly pained expression. “I live by myself.” 

That was enough asking for her, she quit the questions and turned her head back to focusing on the very quick ‘swing’ rhythm that was bouncing back and forth with blaring saxophones and trumpets, slight keys chords distinct in the background.

== 

It had been quite some more time until the third and final album had finished it’s spin. They were rather quiet the entire time, Makoto was unsure if it was because she questioned him too much or he was simply enjoying the music. However, Makoto’s thoughts were plagued with worry. _‘He’s only sixteen or seventeen! How and why is he living with himself, and caring for another person at that!’_

Her thoughts were interrupted as Kurusu stood up, grabbing the record and lifting it from the player, slipping it into its case and stacking on top of the other two albums, resting it on the ground. He huffed out a sigh “Boss should be in Leblanc if you’re hungry. I’ve got to go, but it was very nice being able to hang out with you today.” He said as he walked towards the doorway, slipping his shoes on, grabbing his case once more as he began to head through the door.

Makoto quickly grabbed her records and hopped up, following after him with the records pressed to her chest. “Boss?” 

“He’s the owner of Leblanc.” He said, walking through the hallway that connected his home with the restaurant. 

“Oh, right… That makes sense.” She mumbled quietly.

The two finally entered the bar, Ren looking around to see Boss at the counter with a few customers in the dining area in front of the stage. He gestured to the man behind the counter for Makoto to see. “That’s Boss. Order his curry, it’s the best you’ll have in your life.”

Makoto nodded, as she looked over at the man, immediately recognizing him. He was the bassist from Kurusu’s band the night prior. Maybe he could also help expand her musical horizons! Or maybe, he even knew about Kurusu and why he was living in such conditions. She turned back to him, “Thank you for having me over… And if you see the shop owner, tell her I said thank you, again.” She said with a proper bow. 

Ren smirked and nodded. “Will do.” And with that, he left the cafe.

Makoto turned back around, walking towards the counter to try some of the curry that Kurusu was talking about. She took a seat on a stool at the counter, watching as Boss began to head towards her.

“What can I get ya?” The man asked.

“I’ll just have your curry, please.” She said. 

The man nodded with a subtle smirk and turned around, getting to work on her food.

A short moment later, there was a glass of water and a plate of curry in front of her now. While Makoto ate, she could see the boss tapping his left hand’s fingers against the table in a sort of rhythmic pattern, perhaps he was just practicing? 

As she finished her meal, she sat there for a few moments longer, thinking. Once the man grabbed her plate and returned to the counter with a refill her water, she decided to finally put her at ease. “Sir, do you know why Kurusu-kun doesn’t live with anyone?” 

The man looked at her with a puzzled face, but it eased as he looked down and sighed. “I don’t think he’d like me telling you.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” She pushed.

He sighed and looked back at her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, he was sent here due to criminal charges, he was on probation and I looked after him, but he refused to live on my property for free so he insisted he paid rent.” 

_‘Criminal charges!?’_ Her eyes widened at the newly found information, he seemed so kind-hearted; snarky, but kind-hearted! Then, she remembered the situation with the first years who all picked on that second-year boy and how quickly Kurusu jumped in to break the violence (with even more violence.) 

She frowned and stood up from the stool. “He also has a younger boy living with him.” 

The man nodded. “Shinya Oda. He’s a good kid.” 

Makoto nodded. “He seemed nice.” She said before a few moments of awkward silence lingered between them. 

“Well, I’m going to head back home.” She finally said, grabbing the records off the counter, heading out of the bar and back towards the train station.

_‘Is he truly a criminal?’_


	4. That Old Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto learns of Ren’s “teacher” and just how he got so good at the trumpet.

Ren woke up, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He looked to his side, seeing Shinya still fast asleep. He climbed out of his sleeping bag and rolled it up tightly, wrapping a string around it and tying it tight. He stuffed it inside the closet and began getting dressed in his school uniform, slipping on a white turtleneck and grabbing his blazer and slacks. He hastily got himself into the clothes before walking to the small kitchen, grabbing a pint of milk and a bowl. He pulled out a box of cheap shopping-brand cereal, pouring it into the bowl, leaving the milk aside.

Ren rushed back out, bending down and poking Shinya a couple of times on the face. “Hey, Shinya.” He whispered, “Breakfast is on the table for you when you wake up.” 

Shinya groaned and nodded, rolling onto his side. “See-ya.” He mumbled groggily. 

Ren nodded and grabbed his trumpet case and bag, taking a quick look in the mirror as he did his hair, slicking the sides back so it looked like a messy undercut. He shrugged and left the home, walking through the empty cafe, walking through the backdoor into the night-lit sky. 

He hummed as he walked towards the train station, boarding the empty train and heading towards Shujin Academy.

————

Ren climbed off the train as it pulled to his stop. He sped out of the station, using his free hand to check the time on his phone. 

_ **4:28 AM** _

_‘Damnit, damnit, damnit!’_ He repeated in his head as his speed-walking grew to a jog, and onto a full-on sprint. 

Finally, he saw the school building and sprinted up the stairs and through the gate, darting to the immediate left and heading for the theater. Once he reached it, he banged a few times on the backdoor, panting heavily from his sprint. Suddenly, the door swung open, nearly smashing him in the face. 

“You’re a minute late.” A stern and condescending voice huffed out through the door. 

“I’m sorry, Kamoshida-sensei,” Ren replied, bowing his head.

The man frowned and grabbed Ren by the lapels of his blazer, pulling him through the door, letting it slam shut behind him. Ren was blinded by the bright lights that suddenly lit up. 

“Button your coat, this isn’t a strip club.” The man said with a low growl. 

Ren immediately set his case down, beginning to button up his blazer, adjusting its collar, making himself look formal and posh. He stood back up straight and grabbed his case, walking after Kamoshida as he began to head towards the stage. 

“Get up there, let’s go. We only have a few hours until school begins. C’mon.” The man ordered as Ren climbed up the side stairs, reaching the main stage. Ren dropped his pack and case, walking off stage to come back with a stand. 

He propped it up to a good height and began to dig into his bag, searching for his binder. He continued his digging, seeing Kamoshida in the corner of his eye tapping his foot with his arms crossed, sulking at him.

Suddenly, Ren’s heart dropped and his stomach hollowed. ‘I left it at Leblanc.’ 

“Well?!” Kamoshida suddenly spoke. 

“I-I forgot my music at home.” Ren said sheepishly as he avoided eye contact with the man as best as possible.

“Imbecile…” Kamoshida muttered. “How the hell am I going to teach you greatness if you forget your goddamn music!?” He yelled. “Get the hell off stage and put that stand back! Idiots who leave their music don’t deserve to stand up there!”

Ren nodded and grabbed the stand, returning it to its respective rack. He walked back and grabbed his bag and case, walking down the stairs and in front of the stage. He dug out his trumpet from his case and attached the mouthpiece onto it, putting it to his lips and playing a few notes. After he got the feel down, he ran up and down a few scales. 

“You better warm up, cause you sound like shit.” He heard Kamoshida bicker. 

Ren kept warming up for another ten or so minutes. 

“You done?” Kamoshida asked.

Ren nodded. 

“Good, give me MacArthur Park.” 

Ren took the trumpet up to his lips and took a deep breath.

“Uhn, two, uh uhn, two, three, four” Kamoshida counted, a ruler in his hand as he gestured each beat with his hand. 

Ren immediately began playing the melody that he had played countless times, each note perfectly in pitch, perfect vibrato, each time the key changed up he matched it. He could hear the instruments all playing collectively in his head, until he had to go to his higher register. He looked at Kamoshida, who was still subtly nodding his head- except he had a quite dissatisfied look on his face once Ren began his highest melody, which was a loud squeal of the main harmony. 

Under this pressure, Ren cracked and he missed his queue into second phrase of the chorus. Which Kamoshida caught immediately as his head shot up and stared at Ren. 

“Cut! Cut! Cut! Jesus Christ, what are you doing? Can you even count to four?!” He yelled, his voice rising even more than it was before. “Again!” 

Ren sighed and took a deep breath, placing the mouthpiece to his lips.

“Uhn, two, uh uhn, two, three, four.” Kamoshida repeated.

Ren came in once more, playing the melody just as flawlessly as he did last time. However, once he had reached the same bar, Ren choked once more under Kamoshida’s glare. His trumpet squeaked a completely wrong note as Ren’s thundering heart had messed up his embouchure.

Kamoshida was fuming by now. “Ren Amamiya! Are you seriously joking!? What is this garbage?!” Kamoshida yelled, walking up to Ren, smacking his knuckles with the wooden ruler. 

Ren winced in pain but held his position, keeping the trumpet held in position. 

“Again!” Kamoshida ordered. “Uhn, two, uh uhn, two, three, four.” 

Ren repeated the process, continuing on through each key change and each octave, until once again, his nerves had gotten the better of him. A loud squeak rang out and resonated within the large auditorium. 

Kamoshida stood in silence, a look of rage in his eyes. Suddenly, he whipped the ruler violently across Ren’s face, smashing his cheek with the end of it. “Goddamnit, Amamiya!” 

Ren’s body recoiled from the blow, he stumbled back a few steps, his hand going to the side of his face that now felt as if it was on fire. He rubbed his cheek before recuperating, remaining silent, and preparing for another take.

“Again!” 

“Uhn, two, uh uhn, two, three, four.” 

Ren began his phrase, this time it wasn’t nearly as strong or as clear as his first or second take, which Kamoshida had clearly picked up on based by his disappointed expression. But Ren soldiered on.

He got past the part where he had slipped up so much on, but now he had to get even higher. As the other horns played the main melody, his squealed so much higher than the others. However, just as Ren thought he was out and into the simple and easy verse, Kamoshida interrupted.

“Cut!” He screamed. 

Kamoshida swung once more, the ruler smashing against Ren’s other cheek, half of it snapping clean off and flying across the room from the sheer force he struck Ren with. Kamoshida tossed the half of it on the ground and began walking away. “Stay in here and practice until you feel like taking music seriously!” He yelled before walking out of the back door, slamming it shut.

Ren waited a few moments in silence, trying to hide the fact that his hand and face both hurt like hell. Once he heard the door slam shut, he exhaled heavily and fell to a knee, holding a hand up to his cheek as tears began to fall down his face.

————

Makoto entered class just a few minutes before the bell rang. She took her seat and began to pull out her supplies, lying then across her desk as she directed her attention to the chalkboard. 

The bell rang and the teacher began her lecture.

While Makoto was meticulously copying down every single thing that was put on the board, she saw a boy in her peripheral vision and when she averted her attention to him, she realized he had a large purple bruise on the side of his face. It was Kurusu-kun.

Makoto turned back to the teacher and raised her hand.

“Yes, Niijima-san?” 

“May I go to the restroom?” 

The teacher nodded and Makoto stood up and walked out of the classroom, immediately turning left and going after him. 

She saw him begin to head up the stairs, “Kurusu-kun!” She called out after him, where he stopped and turned his head.

“What?” He asked blandly.

“Is your cheek okay? What happened to it?” She whisper-yelled trying not to draw attention, since she wasn’t even supposed to be out here talking.

Kurusu sighed and turned around, walking back down the steps and up to her. “I’m fine.” He mumbled.

She noticed the other (albeit less visible) bruise on his other cheek and sulked. “Who struck you?” 

“No one, I’m fine.” 

Makoto was going to keep pushing, she intended to figure out who it was. Did it have something to do with him being a criminal delinquent? Was he involved in the Yakuza?

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Kurusu-kun’s sudden movements. He grabbed her shoulders and pinned her back against the lockers, getting dangerously close to her face.

She squeaked out and stammered out a response “Ku-Kurusu-kun what are you do-“ 

“Amamiya-kun, what do you think you are doing?!” 

Makoto heard an older man’s voice yell at him and she immediately cocked her head towards him, it was principal Kobayakawa. She probably looked like she was ditching class and making out with the delinquent student! Sae would be furious when she found out. 

“Just picking on the new kid.” He said quietly before releasing her arms and standing up straight and turning towards the man. 

“Apologize to Niijima-san this instant!” The bulbous man ordered.

Ren turned to her and bowed. “I’m sorry, Niijima-senpai.” 

Makoto looked back at him with a look of shock on her face, she was about to speak until Kobayakawa interrupted her. 

“Why were you in the halls during class?” He asked.

Makoto looked at the principal and back at Kurusu-kun, who was giving her a look as if he was expecting her to catch on to what he was doing, which she did. “I-I was heading back to class when I was coming back from the bathroom, then he came up to me and you saw what happened.” 

Kobayakawa sulked and looked at Ren, speaking in a hushed whisper-yell, “If Kamoshida didn’t like beating you so much, I’d expel you from Shujin. You’re dismissed.” 

Ren simply nodded and turned on his heel, heading back up the stairs.

_‘Kamoshida? Beat? Expel?’_ Was all Makoto could gather from their encounter. She stood still like a statue and stared at Kobayakawa, who turned to face her and out on a friendly smile.

“You may return to your class now.” 

“T-Thank you.” She said quietly, walking back into her classroom.

———

The lunch bell rang and the kids in Makoto’s class stormed out of the room, leaving her alone at her desk. She fetched her lunch from her bag, lifting it up and setting it down on her desk, moving her papers and folders aside.

She saw a figure stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame. 

“Yo.” She heard a casual voice speak.

“Hello.” She responded flatly, it wasn’t the sound of Kurusu-kun’s voice but it was definitely familiar. 

The boy stepped into the room, “Have you seen Kurusu anywhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She immediately noticed the blonde hair, that was Ryuji (if she remembered Kurusu-kun yelling). She shook her head at his question. “No, I have not. Do you know why he had bruises, though?” 

It took a moment for the realization to set in for Ryuji. “That son of a bitch.” He growled under his breath. “Kamoshida!” He said to himself before turning and running off.

_‘Kamoshida?!’_ She immediately stood up, running after him. She followed after him, chasing him through the school. They ran outside the front doors and took a turn, heading towards the auditorium. 

Ryuji ran and walked to the backdoor where he could hear muffled speaking and the sound of a trumpet playing. He cracked open the back door and watched.

Makoto stood beside him, watching through the crack as well. There, she saw Kurusu-kun with the trumpet in his hands, playing through notes. Across from him, stood a man with long black hair and a white t-shirt. 

“Who is that?” She whispered.

“Kamoshida, the band director.” Ryuji mumbled.

Makoto hummed in understanding as she turned back to watch Kurusu-kun.

“”Uhn, two, uh uhn, three, four.” Kamoshida counted off.

And the trumpet began to sing, playing loud and proud through the melody he had been playing on the rooftop when she first met him. It kept jumping up in pitch, until it was squealing loudly and for the first time ever, she witnessed Kurusu-kun mess up. His note was just barely sharp, as far as Makoto could tell, and obviously Kamoshida could as well. 

“Cut! Do you even care, Amamiya!?” Kamoshida screamed, approaching Kurusu-kun, grabbing the collar of his blazer and pulling on it. 

Makoto couldn’t hear what Kurusu-kun responded with, but she saw Kamoshida raise his hand and smack the boy across the face with the back of his hand.

“Then play like it!” He roared out before turning around and going back to counting off.

Makoto grit her teeth and began to push past Ryuji, swinging the door open and stomping in. 

Kamoshida stopped his count off and turned to see Niijima-san enter the room. He sulked. _‘What the hell is she doing here?’_

Ren’s eyes widened as he saw her enter, he took a step to intervene but Kamoshida’s hand shot up and froze him in place. 

“What are you doing here, Niijima-san?” Kamoshida asked, putting on a kind voice. 

“I was actually wondering what your Jazz Ensemble is like? I’ve been quite intrigued by the art.” She said calmly, trying to act completely oblivious to the obvious abuse that was taking hand. While, Makoto never liked playing (she was also oblivious to the thought of even acting dumb until she recently watched one of new hot Yakuza films, where the protagonist played dumb and it worked like a charm!) 

Kamoshida smirked as he eyed her up and down. “What instrument do you play?” 

Makoto shivered at the icy stare but held her ground. “Piano.” 

Kamoshida rubbed his chin, looking at her and back at Kurusu, lowering his hand. “Tomorrow after school is the first rehearsal.” 

Makoto nodded. “I hope you won’t mind if I take Kurusu-kun with me, he hasn’t eaten all day and it is his lunch break.” She said, (totally bluffing, but it turned out she was correct about Ren not eating.) 

The band director scrunched his nose and looked at Ren, who stood still as a statue, his gaze averted off into nothingness. He turned back to the girl and huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Sure thing!” He said, forcing a smile as he looked back at Ren, snapping a few times in front of his face, waiting for the boy to come back to Earth. “You’re done, get out of here.”

Ren blinked a few times and looked at the two of them before nodding and beginning the process of packing his equipment up. 

“I’ll be waiting by the door, Kurusu-kun.” Makoto said as she turned and began walking towards the backdoor, stopping just outside of it. 

Ren picked up his case and gave her an acknowledging hum. He began to walk until the back of his arm was grabbed by Kamoshida, who gave him a cold stare. 

“Practice.”

Ren nodded and turned, following after Makoto. She opened the door and walked outside, joining Ryuji and walking beside him (though it was mainly Ryuji thanking her for getting Ren the hell out of there). 

Ren trailed behind the two, staying dead silent and staring at his feet, watching each detail in the sidewalk.

Makoto grumbled to Ryuji, “Who the hell is Kamoshida to think he can do that to Kurusu-kun…?” 

Ryuji shrugged and shook his head. “Kurusu was the unlucky sucker who got picked by Kamoshida because he saw greatness in ‘em. And I guess Kamoshida is a popular jazz musician and band director all over Shibuya.” 

Makoto began to turn, “Kurusu-kun, are you oka-“ But she ended up being cut off, being enveloped in a bundle of warmth. It took her a moment to realize that Ren had pulled her tightly into a hug. He began to whimper softly as he pressed the side of his face against the top of her head, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

Makoto’s face grew a furious red, but she was still able to muster up the courage to return the hug to him. 

Ryuji sighed and approached the two, wrapping his arms around both of them. “Listen, man.” He said quietly (which was foreign to Ryuji as far as Ren knew) “if you ever need help with anything, you know you got me… And…” He said, trailing off.

“Makoto Niijima.” She finished for him.

“Makoto Niijima.” Ryuji repeated

Ren sniffled and nodded. “Thank you both…” He mumbled out, coughing a few times as he began to break the hug, taking a few steps back from the two as they took a few steps back as well. Ren rubbed his face with his sleeve and grabbed his case. “Can we get lunch now?” 

Ryuji and Makoto both nodded. 

“Thank the lord, I haven’t eaten at all today.” He said, beginning to walk.

“That’s very unhealthy, you know!” Makoto lectured. 

“Yeah, yeah… I know.” Kurusu mumbled. 

Makoto sighed and followed after him, Ryuji lagging behind. 

_‘Makoto Niijima…’_ Kurusu repeated in his head, humming as he walked along, Makoto and Ryuji both joining at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, starting off with a bunch of angst and ending it off on a fluffier note! 
> 
> If you’d like, please feel free to leave a comment! (It’s a very big dopamine boost, for me, tbh.) and yeah, thank you for reading Take Five!


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